


Of Flowers And Griffons

by hinotoriii



Series: Oscar Trevelyan [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 15:56:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3296198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hinotoriii/pseuds/hinotoriii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During an afternoon where Oscar and Dorian spend time in their usual corner in the library researching, Oscar finds himself bored and ends up making something from some of the spare parchment he has. Noticing him and curious as to what it is he's making, Dorian puts his book to one side and joins in on what appears to be an old distraction for the Herald.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Flowers And Griffons

“Now I may not be all that much of an expert on the subject myself, but I believe I know enough to say that what you’re doing right now _doesn’t_ look like it relates in any way to Knight-Enchanters.”

A smile dances upon Oscar’s lips, his fingers flicking and folding the parchment in his hands as he continues to fold and bend it into different shapes. He finds himself stumbling every now and again, pausing for a second as he tries to remember what corner he’s supposed to fold over next, or what part of the object he’s making he has to pull at slightly to tighten the structure of it all. Still he continues to enjoy it, finding the distraction much more desirable compared to the research he’s _supposed_ to be finishing.

“As shocking as the revelation may come to you, even Inquisitor’s need a simple distraction from their work at times,” He says in response to Dorian’s observations.

“Oh, I’m well aware of that by now I assure you.” Dorian rests his arm against the arm of his chair, leaning his chin upon his hand as he watches Oscar curiously. “What is it you’re even making, exactly?” he asks. Oscar spares a quick glance towards him before turning his attention back onto what it is that he’s attempting to craft.

“Hopefully, it’ll end up being a flower. If not, then it’ll just be a scrunched up ball of something.” Oscar lets out a huff of laughter, shaking his head to himself as he folds another corner over. “My brother Stephan used to make them all the time when we were younger. He’d give them to our sister afterwards, since she had a thing for pretty plants and flowers. She was never allowed to pick them from our gardens however, so Stephan thought that paper ones could be a sort of substitute for her. Just before he left for his Templar training he taught me how to make them too, and I _used_ to be kind of good at it. But then we are going back a few years since I last gave it a shot, so I guess it makes sense if I struggle over making them now.”

Oscar hears Dorian chuckle, a sound that never failed to cause Oscar’s heart to flutter from where it beats deep within his chest. The memory he spoke of was one of the better ones he carried from his childhood: and Oscar would happily be the first to agree that the reason for that was probably due to it involving his older siblings and not his parents.

“I suddenly have this rather adorable image in my head of said elder sister of yours putting all the paper flowers you and your brother made for her into some kind of vase and treating them as if they were the real thing.”

“You’re not wrong with picturing that,” says Oscar. “She sometimes liked to organise them by their colours. Maker knows how many of the damned things she kept around her room back then.”

“Perhaps the fact she had so many might have been a sign for you or your brother to try your expertise in making something else instead after a while.”

Dorian lowers the hand he’s leaning his chin on, holding it out towards Oscar invitingly. Oscar looks up, staring between the hand and then Dorian for a moment with a rather bewildering frown upon his brow. When it’s clear he doesn’t understand what Dorian wants Dorian rolls his eyes fondly, letting out a sigh as he lightly waves his hand in the air.

“I’m asking you for some parchment, _amatus_. I can see the pile of it you have sitting on your lap right now.”

 _“Oh,”_ Oscar says, eyes widening in realisation.

He grabs a piece of parchment and offers it towards Dorian, who takes it from him gratefully. Oscar watches as Dorian moves the book he had been reading from earlier to one side – making sure the page is left open as he places the book faced down so he can return to what he’s reading later – before beginning to inspect the parchment for himself. 

“I didn’t know you could paper fold too,” Oscar begins. The words spark a snort from Dorian, who begins to carefully fold a corner over.

“That’s simply because you never thought to ask me before now,” answers Dorian. “Not that it's ever really mattered in any of our other conversations, so I suppose you can use that for an excuse. I will say however that you aren’t the only one that sometimes looks for much welcome distractions whenever work gets too tedious to continue with for one day.”

“ _You_ finding work too tedious? I don’t think I quite believe that, honestly. Surely it’s more like you were bored that whatever you were working on wasn’t enough of a challenge for you.”

“That does sound more like me, doesn’t it?” Dorian says, grinning. “Although to add a slight crack into whatever illusions you currently have crafted about me, there were a few rare times when I was researching something for Alexius where I wished I could be looking into something much more rewarding. Some books can just be ridiculous at jumping to the closest assumption and sticking with it rather than relying on actual facts; and I’ll have you know it’s quite the chore sometimes to shift between all the fiction and theory to find something which is _actually useful_ for what's really needed.”

Dorian pauses for a second, frowning at the parchment in contemplation before deciding to just turn it upside down. His brow relaxes quickly, continuing on with his work as he speaks.

“Sometimes when I was left for an evening with nothing but my own thoughts, the candle still burning low and whatever I was reading into seeming as if it was hitting nothing more than a constant dead end Felix would appear and sit with me. He was the one that introduced me to paper crafting in the first place, and I admit I found it rather enjoyable. I even found a few books about the art back home and took inspiration from my findings within them, creating various little paper creatures that would sit at my work desk afterwards.”

“You say creatures …” Oscar begins. Dorian simply hums in response, and Oscar decides to set his papers and own unfinished flower down on the floor beside him, watching as Dorian continues to work at making … whatever it is that he’s making. “Is that what you’re working on now?”

“It _does_ manage to beat a flower somehow, doesn’t it?”

“Show off,” Oscar replies fondly, lips twitching upwards into a grin.

Quiet passes between the two of them as Oscar continues to watch Dorian. The library fills with the usual murmur as others visit and set to their own various pieces of work; the scratching of a quill belonging to the Tranquil across the room as she writes up reports on the newest research items delivered to her blending into the background noise also. Oscar finds the whole environment calming and warm, somewhere to feel welcome amongst the growing diversity of people around them. It’s never been much of a guess to him why Dorian had quickly taken fond ownership over the spot in the alcove with the large red chair and sun filtering through the window; Oscar had long since grown to understand how pleasant it could be to sit out of the way of everything for a while whilst still managing to remain connected to the much busier, larger picture they were all a part of. 

The comfort the two of them felt in such a place and with one another was strong, enough so that the silence between them didn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward in any way. In fact Oscar felt that just their presence near to one another was soothing enough at times, and so it isn’t until Dorian has gotten a little further into his current project that Oscar eventually decides to speak once more. 

“Is that – do I see _wings?”_ Oscar asks, leaning forward slightly to try and get a better look at what the creature Dorian’s making is.

“Perhaps,” Dorian replies, shielding the creature from Oscar’s curious view. “Just wait until I’ve finished – which I almost am. Then you can see what it is properly.”

“Or you could just tell me what it is. That’s also an option.”

Dorian laughs. “An option which takes all the fun out of you having to wonder what it could possibly be. You’ll see what it is soon enough.”

Oscar sighs in acceptance, picking up his half finished paper flower and holding it in his hands. The more he stares at it the more he picks out parts that aren’t quite right, at least not compared to the flowers he and his brother used to craft anyway. Still, it so far _passes_ at looking like a flower all the same, and considering how at first he hadn’t been too sure if he could remember how to make the damn thing at all, he’s happy with how it’s coming along.

He moves to straighten out a few of the areas that have somehow managed to crease slightly when they shouldn’t have, completing a little bit more to it while he waits for Dorian to finish. Eventually he does, and Oscar turns his attention away from the flower again once Dorian calls his name.

What Oscar doesn’t expect as he looks up however is the small paper griffon that flies away from Dorian’s hand over towards where he’s sitting on the floor. 

“Of course you thought to enchant it first,” Oscar says around a laugh, holding out his hand so that the griffon could perch itself there. He looks over the object, glancing at every fold and crease that’s been put into creating it, and at seeing the sheer mastery of skill that’s been put into it Oscar can’t help but to be impressed.

“Isn’t that half the fun of making them?” Dorian asks him. “Create the creature, add a small portion of magic and then poof! Suddenly it can fly. Not for very long mind you since the magic fades quickly as soon as you touch it, but I’ll have you know that it’s still a very good party trick for impressing people. As long as they’re not screaming apostate at you first, that is.”

Oscar laughs, shaking his head as he continues to look over the griffon closely.

“How did you learn to make this? It looks so complicated.”

“I told you. I’ve read a few books on paper crafting. And it wasn’t all that complicated, not really. At least not compared to others I remember the books showing. Some of them appeared damned near impossible to make.”

“I dread to think what the more complicated things were then,” Oscar replies. A thought suddenly comes to the forefront of his mind, his attention turning back to Dorian. “Do you think you could make another one of these?”

“Of course I could, yes. But why would I be making another?” Oscar hands Dorian a second sheet of parchment as he speaks, picking up on the moment where understanding suddenly dawns on Dorian’s face. “You’re ... planning something, aren’t you? You’ve got that look on your face that tells me you’ve a plan brewing in that marvelous mind of yours.”

Dorian takes the parchment from him as Oscar gives a vague nod in response, and begins to work on making another paper griffon. As he waits Oscar continues to look over the first one, marvelling at how Dorian has managed to put it together so well and so quickly, his fingers touching it carefully so as not to have the delicate paper fall apart. He already knows where it’ll be kept when we returns to his quarters later, planning to set it upon the desk in his room so it’s there whenever he has to work or write important letters to nobles across the lands.

Once Dorian is finished with the second griffon Oscar stands to his feet, careful not to trample on any of the surrounding papers or books around them. He signals for Dorian to follow him, before heading over to where the middle of the room opens up with a view of the floor below them.

“Can you enchant this one again?” He asks quietly, turning to Dorian with a smirk on his lips. Dorian smiles back at him, bringing both Oscar’s hands and the paper creature sat upon them up close to his lips so he could murmur the few words to a spell to it. As soon as the spell is complete the little paper griffon flutters its wings and flies just above Oscar’s hands, and Oscar gives a little nod before Dorian is guiding it to fly down below them. 

Both Oscar and Dorian watch as the griffon flies down, fluttering close to the desk that Solas is busy looking over one of the various shards they’d managed to recover. It hovers near him, catching the elf’s attention. Solas looks up, staring at the peculiar object close to him before finally holding out a hand and letting the griffon sit there. As the magic from the griffon fades and it remains still he turns his head up towards where Oscar and Dorian are still standing, instantly finding their humoured expressions.

“Is this your response to when I said you should ride in on a griffon, Inquisitor?” Solas asks; amused at Oscar’s joke. 

“You seemed upset that they were extinct,” Oscar replies, laughter laced within his words. “Dorian and I thought you might like to see one flying for a change!”

Solas looks back at the griffon sat in his hand, staring at it for a long moment before letting out a sigh and shaking his head with a small smile upon his lips.

“A paper one wasn’t exactly what I envisioned at the time, but I’ll admit it’s impressive all the same. Thank you. I shall look after it well.”

Oscar laughs again, turning back to Dorian as Solas sets the griffon down and continues on with his own work. Dorian looks both amused and bewildered, an eyebrow raised quizzically at the conversation between both the Herald and the elf.

“I’d ask what that was about, but I feel as if I still wouldn’t understand the joke as much as you two appear to.”

Oscar shakes his head, chuckling to himself still. “It’s just something Solas joked about back when I first became a part of all this. He really _did_ seem sad that griffons weren’t around anymore. I guess he’s fond of them.”

“I swear, _everybody_  within your inner circle seems to hold a fondness for some kind of creature. And they’re usually either extinct or deadly.”

“And then there’s you who loves the fennec foxes you keep telling me aren’t running all over the place back in Tevinter,” Oscar says, reaching for one of Dorian’s hands. He gives a light squeeze, feeling Dorian squeeze his hand back in response. “Speaking of deadly creatures though … do you know how to make paper dragons by any chance?”

“Oh _no_ ,” Dorian replies around a laugh of his own. Oscar begins to slowly walk them both back to the alcove they were sitting in before, Dorian shaking his head as he speaks. “I have ground rules for making you a paper crafted dragon, Oscar. Rule number one being you are absolutely _not_ allowed to enchant it to breathe little balls of fire at things. Maker knows Josephine wouldn’t be happy if you handed her reports with charred holes in them, and I refuse to be responsible for that.”

“This sounds a lot like the discussions we have when I’m planning a dragon hunt,” Oscar sighs, although he’s still grinning. “What if I promise it’ll just sit on my desk and not make it do anything? I wouldn’t even enchant it to hoard the spare coin I’m always losing.”

“... I might agree with making you one then. Perhaps. Keep trying to convince me though, I’m quite enjoying this.”


End file.
